


Varis Nuts into the 18th Century

by Big_Spicy_Garlean_Fucker



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Awkward Flirting, Belly Kink, Bodice-Ripper, Bodily Fluids, Breeding, Clothed Sex, Come Inflation, Corsetry, Court, Crossdressing, Cunnilingus, First Time, Garleans (Final Fantasy XIV), Gratuitous Smut, High Heels, Impregnation, Large Cock, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Royalty, Secret Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Strangers to Lovers, Thighs, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Varis zos Galvus-centric, Wet & Messy, fat kink, hoo boy, intersex Lucius, it's not pee, make it fit, once again, or BJs whatever the anatomy's juicy, squart, varis's fat nuts, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Spicy_Garlean_Fucker/pseuds/Big_Spicy_Garlean_Fucker
Summary: LuciVaris Victorian AU. It's porn.Varis yae Galvus, Crown Prince of Garlemald, is under pressure from his grandfather to marry and produce an heir. But there's just one problem.Varis is gay.Luckily, there's some high-grade Garlyminge just waiting around the corner to sate his latent desires.Written for the 2020 Wondrous Tails of FFXIV Tumblr prompts. Bring towels.
Relationships: Varis zos Galvus/Lucius Batiatus, Varis zos Galvus/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Varis Nuts into the 18th Century

**Author's Note:**

> the title is absolute bullshit i know lmao ENJOY.
> 
> Fills the prompts SIZE KINK and SECRET SEX for the NSFW bingo.

“W-well, uhm, you see…” The noblewoman fusses with her satin gloves, slim fingers trembling as she struggles to string a single sentence before her Prince. This is everything she’s been working for, climbing the ranks of Garlean society to attend this most prestigious affair at Court. “I, aah…”

“You bore me with your piteous nonsense. Begone.” With a flick of the wrist, Varis dismisses her and turns his attention away. The woman squeaks, muddling a curtsey before skittering off as fast as her skirt will allow. Varis rolls his eyes for the hundredth time that night, golden gaze none too pleased by the offerings this evening. He can feel his grandfather’s disapproving gaze boring into him from somewhere across the room, but quite frankly hasn’t the patience to entertain it for a second. He has gone two decades without a spouse, and has a reasonably fine son in the Militum serving Garlemald’s more genocidal needs. What good would it do to marry again?

 _‘None. I have had quite enough of this frivolous farce. Let me see about retiring for the night… If no-one is waiting to accost me in the hallway.’_ Varis has learned his way around the manners of the aristocracy, being born and raised among them and choosing to forsake the game more often than not. They are all mask-wearing miscreants, the lot of them, and as Varis crosses the ballroom with empty wineglass in hand, he is glad to have not drank too much tonight. He will need all his wits about him if he is to make a swift escape.

“Leaving so soon, Your Highness?” someone says, and Varis merely holds out his glass towards them. They take it, puzzled, and watch him stride off with the tips of his tailcoat fluttering along. His face settles into the traditional Galvus scowl – eyes forward, jaw set, brows shadowing the telltale lack of patience that has seen many uninitiated servants shot through the skull. People think twice before reaching out to him, and it’s not long before Varis has made his way out of the brightly lit ballroom and into the connecting corridor. This wing of the Imperial Palace is on the Eastern side, where functions are held far enough from the royal suites so as not to disturb the temperamental Galvii. It’s a fifteen minute walk back to his own quarters, and quite frankly, Varis can’t be bothered. He blinks for a moment, eyes adjusting to the dim golden glow of wall-mounted lamps designed for comfort and comeliness. Rich red carpet streaks down the hall and plays off the crimson wallpaper, gilded filigree patterns working all the way up to the hand-painted ceiling. Varis admires the visions of soldiers taking down mighty beasts as he wanders, though the sound of approaching footsteps rips him out of his reverie like a fart in a cannon. He snaps his gaze straight ahead and the instinct to run, duck into a nearby room, _something_ … dies in an instant.

There, at the end of the hall, stands a fairly petite figure that seems more fabric than flesh. Whoever they are, they’re no taller than six and some fulms, with a tightly cinched waist emphasising several yalms of lavender silk. Ribbons adorn their short, lacy sleeves and while Varis can’t make out a neckline just yet, he can tell this isn’t someone he’s ever seen before. They seem wholly occupied with a vase of flowers sitting on a low display table, long fingers playing with paper-thin petals and seeming to enjoy it. Varis approaches step by step, eating up every single bit of information he can. Rarely is he so struck by the appearance of another. The bustle’s a bit much under that dress, he thinks, sticking out a good fulm or so from an otherwise dainty figure. As he gets closer, he realizes those pale arms aren’t as spindly as he thought – they’re _muscled_ , moving from broad, sloping shoulders attached to what is most certainly not a woman’s face. Varis slows down. _‘That’s… a man?’_ In a ballgown that looks more expensive than most senators’ yearly salaries?

The man turns, sharp jawline offset by the luscious blonde curls tumbling from his head all the way down to mid-back. His eyes widen with recognition and he offers a curtsey, gentle smile playing at his shapely pink lips. “Lord Galvus.”

Varis opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. They’re only about six fulms apart now – he hadn’t realized when he got so close. Taking an uncharacteristically hesitant step back, Varis bows. _‘What are you doing…?’_ His father’s words echo in his mind, a memory of long ago. _‘You are a Galvus. You bow to no-one.’_ And yet as he straightens up, he wants to do little more than take one knee and press a kiss to this man’s long, delicate fingers. He has to say _something_. And so he does.

“I… do not believe we have met before.”

“Oh!” The man chirps like a nest full of songbirds and Varis nearly faints at the sweetness of it. “Lucius cen Batiatus! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He offers not a handshake in the traditional male greeting, but rather puts a hand to his chest and tucks his chin down, demure. “Ufu~ You’re looking ever so lovely tonight, milord. Come to escape the crowds?” Elegant gestures punctuate his words, and Varis can’t take his eyes away.

He gapes, stammers, his cheeks aflame. “W-well, I suppose so, in a fashion, yes. I… don’t quite recognize the design of your dressage; might I ask where you got it?” Immediately, Varis cringes. _‘’Where you got it’? What are you, an illiterate pleb?’_ For all his internal hemming and hawing, Lucius seems blissfully unaware of Varis’s lacking eloquence and curls a finger into his hair.

“My father had it made for me just last week! I designed it myself, isn’t it pretty~?” He twirls in a tight circle, ruffles swishing just three ilms off the floor. His backside sways like a full sack of wine and Varis’s eyes nearly fall out of his face.

“Y…yes, the ah… bustle’s a bit much, though.”

Lucius blinks, peering over one shoulder behind his back. “Bustle?” He puts a hand to his rear and feels around. “Oh, I forgot to stitch it in! Dear me…” From seemingly nowhere he produces a fan, gilded ivory with feathers at the end, and flutters it coyly. “Please do forgive my _terrible_ indiscretion!” He goes on and on with quaint little say-sos about how hard he’s been working on perfecting his design, but Varis hears not a whit as he stares at the man’s enormously wide hips. He _has_ to be wearing a hoop under there. Several, to keep his dress shaped like that. But to think that he forgot to stitch in a bustle… that he’s not wearing one, and yet his ass looks like _that_ …

“Lord Galvus?” Lucius steps a little bit closer, peering up through thick, dark lashes that curl so prettily out to each side. “I… I do hope I haven’t bored you with my ceaseless prattle. Oh, I have, haven’t I…!” Fluttering his fan faster, his paper-white cheeks flush light pink. Late to Court, and now bothering one of royal blood with his silly little passions! His father would be ashamed!

“I… no.” Varis shakes his head, and without thinking, reaches out to grab hold of Lucius’s wrist. _‘Don’t go.’_ In that moment, the space between them draws to little more than an inch. Lucius’s wrist is so small and fragile, Varis can feel his pulse hammering away where he presses his thumb to the spread of veins. His skin is so thin it’s almost translucent, and Varis’s hand dwarfs him like a glass reed in a furnace. He’s _sweating_. And neither of them are wearing gloves. Lucius’s eyes slowly widen, opalescent bluish-pink sparkling with flecks of silver as he stares up at Varis. His blush deepens, spreading down his bare chest between the plunging lace neckline of his lavender-cream dress. Varis notes that he isn’t wearing any jewelry – not so much as a pendant around his throat or earrings to tangle in his hair. He is… _pure_ , and Varis has tainted him.

He withdraws his hand at once, stammering a thousand apologies. But Lucius closes the distance once more, and presses both hands to Varis’s broad, suited chest. The golden buttons wink at him in the hallway’s warm light. Come to think of it, it’s a little too stuffy for his liking, and well-fitted though his corset is, it’s squeezing the absolute life out of him.

“Lord Galvus…” he breathes, peering up into Varis’s dark-flushed face. “I feel ever so faint… will you show me to a sitting room, where I might catch my breath?”

“A-at once!” Loud enough for a military order, Varis jerks to one side and shoves open the nearest door. He ushers Lucius in and closes it with an errant backhand, wincing as it clicks obnoxiously. No magitek doors in this part of the palace. All traditional, heavy wood. It’s not a sitting room that they find themselves in, he soon discovers when the light flicks on and Lucius is there by his side looking none too faint at all. A grand, opulent guest suite sprawls before them complete with red-canopied bed, lush curtains tied off with golden cord and a deep wine carpet that doesn’t look like anyone’s stepped on it in years. Pristine and freshly made, the bed is covered in fat white pillows that resemble large, rectangular marshmallows. Lucius wanders right over and picks one up, cuddling it to his chest. It seems to relax him, and the colour in his cheeks fades to a more subtle peach. Varis just stands there, watching him, before remembering that he should probably go. _‘And leave this sweet young thing all on his lonesome? Hardly.’_ Before he knows it, he’s across the room and kneeling before Lucius who’s sitting on the edge of the bed. His head reaches the lad’s chest even in this position, and his mouth goes dry when he tries to speak. He wants to offer something – a glass of wine, some biscuits, anything. But looking up into that glittering, mesmerising gaze, he finds himself struck silent. He stares, and stares some more, drinking in the sight of those luscious blonde curls tumbling down the finest lacework he’s ever seen on a man’s chest. Or anyone’s, for that matter. Thinly, he gasps. When had he forgotten to breathe…?

Lucius peers at him, no longer hiding behind the pillow which he’s set to one side, along with his fan. He plays with his hands, lacquered nails of glossy pearl tapping together idly. However did he find himself in such close quarters with the Crown Prince? Varis is somewhere in his early forties and a tall, expensive drink of the finest wine Lucius has never imagined. He’s not much of a drinker, no – he likes to sink his teeth into things, stuff them into his mouth, and one of the reasons his corset is so tight is to prevent him from doing that. Varis looks absolutely spellbound, and Lucius isn’t sure what to do with this sudden control. He lowers his lashes, shyly gazing off to one side. _‘We’re so close…’_ His pulse has been racing for a good few minutes, now, and it’s making his clothes feel all the more constricting. His heels, in particular, are squeezing his dainty little feet. And there’s no way he can bend down to reach them like this.

Ever so carefully, he creeps his fingers down to the top of his skirt, which floofs out enormously from his cinched-in waist. He gathers a bit of fabric up with a gentle scritching motion, Varis’s eyes widening as Lucius’s ankles are revealed. They’re stick-thin, and polished alabaster just like the rest of him. Varis can’t look away, though he knows he should. Lucius offers him one leg with a shy command.

“Will you… please take this off me? It’s awfully tight.” It doesn’t _look_ like it, cream straps criss-crossing the lad’s skin, but Varis has no intention of denying this man a single thing in the world. “Don’t look…” Lucius releases the fabric and it drapes back over Varis’s large hands, fingers made for tearing and crushing now delicately unpicking the buckle on his shoe.

 _‘I can do this.’_ he tells himself, staring down at the magnificent fabric guising those long, long legs he could only ever dream to glimpse. His cheeks are now so dark they look like he’s been slapped, flushed from the thrill of sighting bare skin. He slips the heel off after long, sweet moments tracing the straps, but not making skin contact any more than necessary. It is _wholly_ impolite, after all. And when he goes for the other one, he lingers a bit as his fingers brush Lucius’s ankle. How could any man have skin so soft, so warm? It only gets hotter as he moves his hand up, feeling the meat of the calf with rough, calloused fingerpads. Lucius shivers, shifting his legs apart minutely. His bare feet reach for Varis’s knees and anchor there, pretty pink toes curling the higher the hand goes.

“Tell me to stop…” Varis murmurs, daring to glance up in hopes of a disapproving expression. _‘Don’t let me do this. It’s against the law to…’_ What he sees brings his questing fingers and churning mind to a standstill. Lucius has begun to unlace his corset, pausing when he catches Varis’s eye. They hold that contact, polished opal and pure gold, until Lucius’s hands tire of keeping the laces apart. He lets them go, and they whip through forty eyelets in the blink of an eye as his huge, soft stomach swells outwards. The sound he makes is _obscene_ , dripping from his parted lips long and low with his head tilted back and eyes closed now in blissful relief. Varis’s entire face tenses; a vein twitches at his brow. It takes him a moment to realize he’s… sticky. In his trousers.

_‘…Oh, shite.’_

Lucius, quite oblivious to literally anything going on beyond his line of sight, groans softly. “Uhhnn… Oh, that feels so _good_. You wouldn’t believe how tight these things are.”

“Quite… so.” Varis coughs, eyes darting about. His voice is high, strained, like Lucius’s feet have abandoned his knees for a good old punt to the crotch. He’s still up under the lad’s petticoat, fingers brushing his calves, and when Lucius spreads himself further Varis is completely, utterly lost.

“Go on,” Lucius coaxes ever so gently. “It’s okay.” He peels away the corset and massages his aching flesh, fingers sinking into his doughy gut as it fills out the waist of his dress. Varis has begun to salivate at the motion of those fingers going around and around, unconsciously mirroring it the higher his hands go. He expects to find a nice set of bloomers by the time he reaches mid-thigh, and finds nothing but an abundance of hot, jiggling flesh. It bounces when he pats it, and surges through his fingers silky smooth when he gropes. His thumbs trace the crease where those thighs melt together, and it shocks him to find he can’t actually get his hands even halfway around them. Him, Varis yae Galvus, with the largest hands in the whole Empire. Lucius has spread himself as far as his skirt will allow, and Varis takes the initiative to do something about that. He shifts back, feels for the edge of a hoop and grabs hold of it. Without further ado, he lifts it up over his head and lets the rest of the hoops, along with Lucius’s skirt, collect on his massive shoulders. Back he goes up under the petticoat and it’s completely dark – but he doesn’t care. He breathes deep of the succulent, fertile scent drawing him in – and sinks his hands into Lucius’s plush inner thighs. He’s rewarded with a sharp cry, high and sweet and demanding _higher_. So he goes, needing no further encouragement as he hooks his fingers into the most negligible lacy knickers he’s ever felt and rips them away. Like tissue paper they shred, and Varis pushes his nose into the slick, juicy heat within. Lucius lifts his legs up high and hooks them over Varis’s shoulders, skirt going all the way up to bare his ass to the world. A deep, rumbling groan vibrates through his sodden core, Varis’s tongue delving into his sex bold as can be. Such a large man comes with an equally sizable tongue, and Varis wastes no time in taking a long, sweet drink of that rich nectar. Lucius keens, falling back onto the bed and plastering a hand to his mouth to keep his voice down. The door didn’t lock on its own, and there are people going up and down the hallway from what he can see of the shadows beneath the crack.

“L-Lord Ga—aahnngghh~!” Lucius jerks violently, crushing Varis’s head between his enormously fat thighs. He’s pouring out slick now, and Varis is drinking it all up like a man starved while milking him for more with one thick finger. That one becomes two – Lucius is _unconscionably_ tight, and it takes work for him to open up further. Varis suckles him eagerly, tongue flicking about the engorged nub of a cock the lad ruts eagerly into his face. Thick precome drips down his face, his cheeks and chin covered in it for there is more than he could ever hope to catch in a single swallow. Snarling breaths turn to ragged, feral gasps the more he drinks, arousal heightened to a fever pitch with the heady, intoxicating aphrodisiac enveloping his entire being. It pours down his throat and fills his belly with searing need – the need to _breed_. Rules and regulations are the furthest thing from his mind as he finger-fucks Lucius raw, stretching the lad’s sopping cunt to a whole hand’s width wide. Lucius is groaning from the strain of it, he can’t wait to be filled, and begs Varis to _“Stop dallying and take me already!”_ And Varis buries his nose deep into the crown of his folds, gives him one little nuzzle while his fingers curl up and Lucius _shrieks_. Luckily into the pillow he has nearby, but it doesn’t do much for the shrill cry of ecstasy that could rival a banshee in labor. His whole body quakes and quivers, pert little breasts bouncing as he jerks back and forth, shamelessly fucking himself on Varis’s fingers. He floods the back of his dress and a good bit of the bed too, and Varis almost drowns with how forcefully Lucius squirts him in the face. He laps up the glossy rivulets running down Lucius’s thighs and pulls himself up, unbuckling his belt with shaking, slippery hands. His pants flick open and out comes his cock, Varis hefting the whole fulm and a half of it out into the open and giving it a few strokes. Even with both of his massive hands wrapped around it, the engorged head juts past his grip proud and pulsing. It’s a huge, vulgar thing, precum dripping from him in excess to the point where it’s formed a pool on the floor. His eagerness is matched only by Lucius’s bonelessness – the man lays there gasping for breath, eyes rolled back into his head. Varis could easily grab hold of his wide, plush hips and use him like a doll, a finely made-up one of ivory and silk at that. The thought has him soaking the bed further.

“Rrrghh…” Varis drags his hands from his cock to wipe them on the bedcovers and begin peeling Lucius out of his dress. “To hell with propriety. I’m going to have you.” He yanks the skirt away and the hoops clatter to the floor, baring Lucius’s lower half. The rest he lifts away with a quarter onze of care – and miraculously it slips off in one piece. His own tailcoat is discarded next, and half the buttons on his dress shirt spring off from how forcefully he rips it apart. His shoes and trousers join the pile. And then he’s upon Lucius all hands and teeth, laving hot, wet kisses all over his lover’s plush form. He sucks swollen nipples to reddened peaks, bruising marks across ivory flesh, and there’s a bright red imprint of his hands all over Lucius’s fat belly. Lucius cries for Varis to fuck him whilst scrabbling at his back, his arms, nails digging into rippling, corded muscles wherever he can reach.

“ _Please_ ,” he wails, as Varis’s forearm-length cock thwaps against his spread, glistening thighs. “Oh please, oh _please Lord Galvus, breed me, please…”_ As he begs, he cares not for who hears, as there is little his reputation could bring him that this man atop him cannot. He reaches down and Varis abruptly grabs hold of his torso, throwing him right into the center of the bed with a _whump_. He squeaks, fluffy blonde curls bouncing and covering his face. When he can see again, Varis is a disheveled, feral mess on all fours with his cock in hand and a monumental amount of precome dripping from the tip. He slathers it around Lucius’s cunt, slicks him well and good, and then pushes it in. Only a bit – Lucius tenses in anticipation and Varis can’t have that.

“Relax…” he growls, ragged and low. “It’ll hurt.” It certainly looks like it will – the thing is four ilms thick and eighteen long. His balls are as big as his hands with all fingers spread. They swing ominously, sloshing full of potent royal seed. Lucius has never wanted anything more in his entire life. So he relaxes, thighs spread apart, and Varis tries again. He’s shaking with restraint now as he pushes the tip in and Lucius welcomes the sudden sting stretching him as far as is physically possible without meeting resistance from his pelvic bone. And that’s the _tapered point_. The rest of Varis’s cock widens ilm by ilm, and the squeeze of Lucius’s virgin body is almost too much for him to bear. He weeps in sheer ecstasy, eyes glistening and head thrown back, while Lucius can barely get his dainty hands halfway around Varis’s thick biceps to hold on. He will lose himself if he doesn’t, and digs his pearlescent nails in. Varis _thrusts_ and Lucius screams, a soundless cry from his throat simply refusing to squawk that loudly. He can already feel himself torn, dripping slick and blood and more than a bit of Varis’s thick, sticky cum. It’s pouring into him relentlessly and the man hasn’t even come yet, simply rocking his hips back and forth now with an eye on Lucius’s pretty, disheveled little face. Black lines of ruined mascara run down high cheekbones and trickle past his jaw, while his mouth hangs agape with tongue out and shallow breaths coming in pants. Lucius’s gentle, opalescent gaze is nowhere to be seen for how far back his eyes have rolled into his head, legs spread and plugged up so tight he can’t even leak. Varis, balls deep within him, presses his full weight down and the tip of his cock pushes against his lover’s cervix. Lucius winces, a feeble “Ah” caught in his throat. All the way in, and Varis now doesn’t want to pull even the slightest bit out. He rests there for a moment sweat running in fine rivulets down his massively muscled body, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. His hair forms a glorious silken curtain around Lucius’s head, tickling his cheeks and occasionally his nose when Varis shifts _just so_.

“Lord Ga…aaahh… nnnghh…” Lucius groans, scraping his nails down Varis’s thick arms. “Uhnnn..”

“What’s the matter?” Varis breathes, beginning to rock his hips ever so slowly as he feels Lucius relax further around him. Lucius says not a word, only clawing at Varis with trembling fingers. Varis can’t bend to reach his face, and so he does the next best thing. He straightens up, leaving Lucius to grasp at the sheets instead, and holds the lad’s legs for leverage. He gets a good look at Lucius laying prone and pliant beneath him, at the way his enormous cock bulges through Lucius’s stomach. As Varis fucks him open wider, the play of shadows by his lover’s sides entices him to reach down and run his calloused fingertips along the outline of his length. Lucius shudders, his inner walls flexing delightfully around Varis’s monstrous girth. Varis grunts through his nose with a smirk at his lips and strokes again, the sensation not only spreading hot pink flushes across Lucius’s skin, but ever so faintly creeping along his cock. It’s borderline masturbation. And he loves it.

“You’re so beautiful.” he breathes, reaching down to grasp Lucius’s plush hips and use him like a sleeve. “Like a doll. How have we not crossed paths before? Rrrngh.” He starts up a steady rhythm of fucking Lucius in an upright position, corded musculature rippling beneath his sweat-slick skin as he uses his full strength to keep their bodies flush. Lucius’s head lolls about while his soft curls bounce all over the place, helplessly scrabbling at Varis’s back and barely able to get his arms even a quarter way around his huge torso.

“Oh, _oh Sir, I...!”_ Nowhere near coherent enough to form a sentence, Lucius moans senselessly into Varis’s thick pectorals and loses himself in a torrent of sheer bliss. He sinks his teeth into the meatiest thing he can find – Varis yelps, squeezes his ass _hard_ , and Lucius’s insides convulse around him. He comes not a moment later with a thinly restrained roar, bright golden eyes screwed shut and balls upending themselves into Lucius’s willing body. Varis slams Lucius down upon his monolithic meat, pumping him fuller and fatter with his potent royal seed shooting up into the lad like a geyser. Wet, sloppy obscenity drips from their joining in a mix of cream and slick, Lucius drooling from both ends with his mouth agape and cunt leaking what it cannot hold. His belly swells with every spurt and Varis just keeps coming – his seed is thick like _glue_ , pouring from his monstrous cock with seemingly infinite supply. Varis actually has to tilt him back a bit so his organs won’t rupture, letting Lucius’s stomach distend outwards until it can take no more. Varis casts him down onto the bed and hovers above him, panting and flushed with cute little teeth marks around his left nipple and more than enough nail scratches to last him a lifetime. Lucius can hardly breathe, gasping and struggling as the last few shudders run through their conjoined bodies in tandem. Varis swiftly turns him onto his side and curls up behind him, still plugging him up with the whole fulm and a half of his cock. He himself is far too exhausted to do anything more than lay panting, and tugging Lucius close, Varis closes his eyes. His hands drift to the lad’s huge, swollen stomach, where his womb bulges obscenely so stuffed full of Varis’s essence. Lucius groans weakly, boneless and sticky and utterly debauched.

‘ _Stay…’_ he thinks, fingers creeping to rest atop Varis’s enormous hand almost thrice as big as his own. _‘Please.’_

Varis only tightens his hold around Lucius, muscular legs twined with thick thighs and spindly ankles, powerful arms locked in perpetual embrace. He is a Galvus, after all. And he has claimed what is his.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up if you can RP Varis and want to write something like this!


End file.
